“Is it time?” I wondered, sipping my tea as I read through what I had already written.

I paused, hesitating. The right conclusion was obvious. If I were to honor the creative process and go in the direction the muse clearly wanted to go, I’d open up about my experience with ayahuasca. 

I’d share how plant medicine had changed my life, transforming me from someone who was convinced she was broken to a woman absolutely certain that she is whole.

I’d talk about my healing journey, sharing how thoroughly plant medicines rewired my brain and nervous system.

I’d say that they helped me find my path and purpose.

I’d report that they helped me find freedom from depression and stop seeing myself as someone doomed to perpetual cycles of despair.

I’d describe what it’s like to move through life with ease and relaxation, laughing at my former self’s absurd ideas about suffering.

And I’d say thank you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to this healing modality that has offered me so much, that has transformed my life so completely.

Then I’d share the reminder that the path isn’t for everyone. No one needs to drink ayahuasca to heal. No one has to sweat it all out in the temazcal or experience the heart opening that comes from sitting with San Pedro to find freedom from suffering.

It’s just an option. One route to get where you want to go, one that has worked particularly well for me.

And then I’d have my story out there, be openly available as a resource for those who are curious, for those who are feeling the call to explore plant medicines but haven’t yet taken the leap.

“But am I ready?” I wondered again. I spent a lot of years labeling myself as a woman in recovery and I originally found sobriety through twelve-step programs, which are abstinence-based. I’ve heard people I like deride anyone who consumes plant medicines in recovery.

“How can you consume mind-altering substances and consider yourself in recovery?” they’d say.

Eventually, I realized that I cared far more about healing than the label of “being in recovery,” and explored the path that was calling me. In 2018, I went to my first ayahuasca retreat.

I found deep, deep, deeeeeeeep healing, and stopped worrying about whether I was “in recovery” or not (to be honest, I stopped worrying about pretty much everything--I learned worrying is pointless). 

Those close to me knew what I was doing and saw the results for themselves. Recovery meetings stopped feeling like home and I found different communities.

But to take another leap? To be fully out there as a plant medicine advocate? When I had so publicly been “a woman in recovery,” going so far as to build an entire company to serve other women in recovery?

Decisions, decisions.

I sipped more tea, pondering. While I knew I’d eventually share openly about this part of my life, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do it yet.

Then I got a message.

“Hey Keely!” The stranger on the Internet started.

“I had a conversation with a friend of yours today. She gave me your contact information and recommended I reach out to you. I have been struggling with depression and anxiety for a while now and have been trying to find alternative medicines/treatments.”

“She told me about your journey with ayahuasca and I was curious if you would mind speaking about your own struggles with depression and mental health in addition to how ayahuasca has helped you to see if it can help me. I’d appreciate your guidance.”

“P.S. She also told me you write so I’ve been checking out your writings as well.”

“Anything would be helpful! Thanks in advance.”

Then I laughed. And laughed and laughed.

There I was, sitting in front of my laptop, sipping chai, hemming and hawing about writing about my experience with ayahuasca.

Then I get a message from a stranger saying, “Hey, I’m struggling with exactly the things that plant medicines helped you overcome. Also, I hear you’re a writer and I’ve been reading your stuff. Any chance you could share a bit about your experience with ayahuasca?”

Oh, Universe. What a gem you are.

Later, when I recounted the experience to Sam, I jokingly asked, “What do you make of it, handsome? Do you think that perhaps the Universe has an opinion on how to proceed? How do you interpret what happened?”

He just shook his head, his face implying that you don’t need to be the Oracle at Delphi to interpret this particular message.

So I’m surrendering and trusting the unfolding, placing my faith in a benevolent Universe, just like ayahuasca has taught me to.

And, with that, I’m Keely. I might be a woman in recovery. I might not be.

I am, however, most definitely a person who has benefitted from working with plant medicines.

If anyone else is feeling the call to explore the plant medicine path and wants to hear about my experience, I’m available.